


galentines and marmosets

by N_Is_For_Knowledge



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Ficlet, Fluff, Multi, Pre-Canon, Valentine's Day, anyway somehow i've never actually written lemonberryice fluff??, so this is me rectifying that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N_Is_For_Knowledge/pseuds/N_Is_For_Knowledge
Summary: Beatrice eats chocolate, Kit muses, Lemony writes a lot of love poetry, and Bertrand regrets adopting a marmoset.
Relationships: Beatrice Baudelaire & Kit Snicket, Beatrice Baudelaire/Bertrand Baudelaire/Lemony Snicket
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	galentines and marmosets

Beatrice grins around her mouthful of chocolate. “Man, we all hate on Valentine’s Day, but it actually rocks.”

Kit grumbles and stretches out on the couch. “Say for yourself. You’re in a relationship.”

Beatrice swings her legs onto Kit’s lap. “Oh, shut up. Valentine’s Day is about _love_. It could be romantic, or it could be family, or it could be friendship-“

“Like Galentine’s Day?”

Beatrice takes another bite of chocolate. “That’s a _thing?_ ”

“It’s a thing. Esmé tried to drag me to some Galentine’s Day party. Apparently, it’s about, like, female friendships?”

“It sounds really gay.”

Kit laughs. “It does!”

Beatrice hops off the couch to kneel dramatically in front of her. “Kitherine Edith Snicket-“

“Kitherine?”

“Shut up! Anyway, Kit…” she presents a piece of heart shaped chocolate. “Will you be my Galentine?”

Kit plucks the chocolate from her hands and shoves Beatrice. “Oh god, Bea, you’re reminding me of L.”

“In what way?”

“I’m so thankful he has someone to give his pages and pages of love poetry to now. Before, he just read it to himself on the sofa and then sobbed for an hour.”

“How do you write love poetry without anyone to write it to?” Beatrice says, and yells the question again to Lemony, who is typing away at the nearby desk. 

“It was really about the _idea_ of being in love more than anything else.” Lemony pauses to type another sentence and withdraws the paper with a _ding_. “It was _very_ bad love poetry.”

Bertrand finally finishes the book he was reading about snakes, and looks up. “Oh, what are we talking about?”

“Lemony’s bad love poetry.”

“It’s not bad _now_. It was bad.” Beatrice looks up from her chocolate to see Lemony standing over Bertrand in his armchair, holding a small stack of papers.

“What’s this?” Bertrand asks.

“It’s for you, is what it is.” Lemony unceremoniously drops the papers, leaving them to float to the ground around him.

Bertrand leaps from his chair and scrambles to pick them up. “You heathen, you didn’t even staple the pages together! How am I supposed to read this in the intended order?”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll help you with that.”

Beatrice throws a piece of chocolate- dark with caramel, Lemony’s favorite- and hits him in the forehead. “Did you write Bertrand love poetry? You didn’t write _me_ love poetry.”

“What? I did, but…” Lemony’s face flashes through the five stages of grief in approximately two seconds. “Give me a second.” He dashes out of the room.

Bertrand, still holding his stack of love poetry, comes over to bother Beatrice. “So what do I get for Valentine’s Day?”

Beatrice mock-scowls in his direction. “You get to take care of Dante for a day.” Dante, full name Dante Pierre Baudelaire-Snicket-Markson, was the communal marmoset, and was quite known for refusing to eat, pooping where he shouldn’t, and generally causing havoc.

“Never. Having to take care of Dante is probably a circle of hell all on its own.”

Bertrand falls off the couch, for reasons completely unrelated to Beatrice elbowing him. “Stop with the Divine Comedy references already!”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t want me to make Divine Comedy references, you should’ve, you know, not named the marmoset Dante!”

“Technically Lemony named the marmoset, so…”

Beatrice can barely finish her sentence before laughing at the sheer inanity of the conversation, and Bertrand, even though he’s not quite sure why, joins in. Kit smiles at them and returns to her sewing. Lemony returns to his loves shaking with laughter on the couch, Bertrand’s hair messy and Beatrice’s hands stained with chocolate. He loves them more than anything, and says as much.

“Oh, same.”

“I wouldn’t say _anything_. I’d sell both of you out for a good root beer float.”

Lemony merely chuckles and hands Beatrice her love poem.


End file.
